


I Know the Area. Follow Me.

by shadowstake_us82



Series: Kendler Sentence Prompts [1]
Category: Whitechapel (TV)
Genre: Comedy, I hope, M/M, Some Mild Flirting, Training New Recruits, it doesn’t work out for anyone really, joe can be a tease when he wants
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-07
Updated: 2020-05-07
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:34:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24056785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shadowstake_us82/pseuds/shadowstake_us82
Summary: Kent is up for promotion and is charged with training several newbies. God help him.
Relationships: Joseph Chandler/Emerson Kent
Series: Kendler Sentence Prompts [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735495
Comments: 4
Kudos: 32





	I Know the Area. Follow Me.

**Author's Note:**

> I have been saving up some lists of sentence/conversation prompts from ye olde hellsite tumblr to try and motivate me. For once I’ve actually seen one through, though of course not the one I set out to start. Always the way.

‘I know the area. Follow me.’

_It really should be that simple. You give someone orders, directions, instructions, and they, you know, should be competent enough to follow them, right??_

_WRONG_.

DC Emerson Kent closed his eyes and sighed in frustration. The day was going from bad to worse; part of him was curious to see what would come next, but he figured it was probably best not to find out. Already he had to suffer what might as well have been a rabble of new recruits who couldn’t even switch on the coffee machine without catastrophe literally exploding all over DC Riley’s freshly laundered white shirt. Kent had apologised profusely whilst piling a heap of tissues into her hands and glaring at his trainees, ordering them to stand in the corner and not speak. Or move. Or breathe, preferably.

‘Who’re your friends?’ Riley’s tone implied she was already picking out suitable locations for a spot of grave digging.

‘God, don’t.’ Kent replied with a pained groan as he continued to help pad at her stained shirt. ‘The boss and skip thought it good practice for me to train them.’

Riley gasped and grabbed at Kent’s arm. ‘Oh my God, you got it, didn’t you? You got the promotion!’

Kent hurriedly shushed her, looking around the incident room anxiously in case of curious ears. ‘Nothing’s been decided yet. It’s just, you know ... ‘

‘Oh, you ...’ she swiped at his arm, ‘you’re gonna be sergeant.’ She hissed theatrically.

Kent frowned. ‘Well, now you’ve gone and jinxed it, haven’t you.’

‘Don’t be so silly.’

‘Riley, you know where we are, and more importantly, _who_ we are? Yep. Totally jinxed.’

Riley rolled her eyes. ‘Between you and the boss, it’s a wonder you dare sleep at all.’

Kent raised an eyebrow at her pointedly. ‘I like to be cautious, that’s all.’

‘You’re a superstitious old woman, is what you are.’ She giggled and tossed the sodden wad of tissue in the bin, then nodded towards Kent’s long forgotten recruits. ‘So what’s next for them, then?’ She frowned in doubt as they synchronised examining their shoes.

‘Field trip.’ Kent feigned an excited grin which he figured probably looked rictus.

‘Field trip?’ Riley winced in sympathy, taking stock once again of the two men and one woman now obliviously looking around the room.

‘Start praying for me now.’

‘Oh, it’s a given.’

So here he was. Stuck on Fournier Street watching in exasperation as the younger male rookie managed to trip over his laces, sending the other male into the gutter; the woman had dropped her radio twice, then got her heel caught on a loose flagstone. 

_Yeah, so not bothering to learn their names._

Kent thought he had been through some tough times before, but when Mr Shoe Lace lost his keys down a drain and Miss Busted Radio somehow split a seam in her trousers on a hedge, all the while Mr Arse Over Tit got lost down a one way street and they had to find him again, Kent reckoned he’d sooner spend his vacation at the Mantus residence without so much as a match than endure any more of this farce. Suddenly he was questioning if a promotion was even worth it.

‘Come on’, he said, tone flat from all the fight drained out of him. ‘We’re going back to the station now.’ He abruptly stopped, Arse Over Tit colliding with his back. Kent gritted his teeth and glanced over his shoulder. ‘I trust you recall where it is?’ 

The three new police officers exchanged looks as if to check with each other making Kent wish for the fortieth time that afternoon that he was back in his bed with dreams of wrapping himself around a tall, elegant blond. ‘Come on’, he all but spat out impatiently, leading the way. He decided he was going to have to have a word with aforementioned tall, elegant blond concerning the _Fawlty Towers_ reboot they had right here.

He couldn’t see the funny side, he really couldn’t; in fact, when he reported back to his superiors in glorious outraged detail every mortifying, misfit moment, he really expected solidarity - maybe even several free drinks later at their favourite pub. Instead, what he got was his colleagues killing themselves laughing; well, in all honesty, he expected that brand of juvenile delirium from Mansell and Riley, but when his sergeant started guffawing like a constipated bull, Kent thought that things had gone a bit too far. Once the boss joined in bursting into deep laughter, seemingly unable to continue containing his silent giggles from behind his hand, Kent threw up his hands in defeat, standing unimpressed against the onslaught of their hysterics. Mansell bemoaned the lack of video footage for them to enjoy; of course, ever his semi reluctant sidekick, Riley piped up tracking the CCTV and they raced to reach it first.

Kent raised his eyebrows at Sergeant Miles and DI Chandler, gesturing to their colleagues’ retreating backs and the cacophony of their laughter. Before he could utter one word of disdain, Miles patted Kent on the shoulder.

‘Nice work, lad, nice work.’ He even had the audacity to chortle as he returned to his desk.

Kent looked appalled at Chandler whom was suspiciously dabbing at his eyes with a crisp white handkerchief. 

‘This ... isn’t going to go against me as a black mark, is it?’

Chandler cleared his throat and attempted to keep the grin off his face. ‘I think I’ll be fair about your assessment. Just, you know, don’t push any of them down the elevator shaft before 5pm. It’s more paperwork.’

Kent harrumphed and went to turn around. ‘It’ll be tough, but I’ll try not to, Sir.’ He had reached the door when Chandler called his attention back again, something close to a sly grin slowly working on to his lips.

‘Wanna check out the CCTV footage?’

Kent opened his mouth but frowned when Joseph Chandler, love of his bloody life, actually began laughing again.

‘Cute, Sir. Next time I’m locking you in your office with all three of them.’

Chandler tilted his head. ‘No you won’t.’

‘Won’t I?’

Chandler smiled gently. ‘Absolutely not. You care too much about me to put me through that kind of torment.’

Kent blushed to the tips of his ears. ‘Well, let this be a warning to you, then.’

Chandler grinned ‘I’ll keep a note of that.’

‘Yeah, you don’t wanna end up on my bad side, Sir.’

Chandler smirked and his eyes sparked with something intriguing Kent couldn’t identify. 

‘I don’t doubt it.’

The smiling DC opened the door.

‘Kent, one more thing ...’

He turned and waited.

‘Try not to lose any more uniforms on one way streets.’

Kent rolled his eyes. ‘Technically he lost himself, Sir.’

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading this nonsense. I am always grateful for it, and of course for any kudos/comments should you be so inclined; it always means the world to me.
> 
> I miss these guys a lot.
> 
> My Kendler Whitechapel tumblr blog is ShadowsWillTakeUs


End file.
